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Entries tagged with melody

The car trip to the alley Cian had told them about was a little longer than usual, a roadblock having been set up and the closed-off street full of vehicles with flashing lights and police. Melody strained to see what the commotion was and it looked like there were screens raised in the middle of the pavement outside a bar or club or something. As she settled back into her seat she saw Jazz sniffing at the open window of the car, the witch's face crinkled in concentration.

Her eyes narrowed and her foot pressed a little harder on the accelerator once they were clear of the traffic around the scene. "That must be the market he was talking about," Mel said, pointing at the E-Zmart's lights, "and there's the alley." She was almost out of the vehicle by the time Jazz parked, the older witch puzzled by the young woman's keenness to get to the alley.

Mel had the backpack on her shoulder as she stepped off the kerb and looked down into the dark alley, eyes taking a moment to adjust after the lights of the market.

"Daniel? Are you here?" she called out, one hand on the corner of the wall, head tilted to one side as she took a step past the phone box.

His vampire senses were keenly attuned to the difference in the air; that was the word he ascribed to the electric charge and chemical scent of a narrow passage that should smell like piss and garbage. After getting a note at Ragnarok, he felt obliged to show up and at least see what all the fuss was. Daniel understood that some kind of magical door to hell had opened and demons were sporadically coming through. People were needed to stand guard. And do what, Daniel didn’t really know; intervene? Take notes? Roll out a welcome mat?

There was a girl leaning against the wall, arms crossed, legs long and straight.

He pulled on his earlobe and cleared his throat. “I’m Daniel,” he said. “I got a message.” He watched her push away from the concrete block wall and approach him. An unknown chill went down his back and then he saw the stake in her hand and figured out why. He raised his palms. “Whoa… I didn’t come here for that.”

“Relax,” she said. She stowed the weapon in a band around her leg. “I’m Rhiannon. Normally you and I wouldn’t be so friendly, but right now we’ve got bigger concerns.” She straightened up. “For all we know, the creatures that came through that door rip off vampire faces, too, and something tells me you like yours.”

Daniel scowled.

Rhiannon tipped her head. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he said, on the defense because it sounded like an insult, except that nobody in his right mind would want his face torn off Texas Chainsaw Massacre style. “No argument here.”

“Good.” Rhiannon fiddled with a blocky gadget with a rubber antenna. “Besides, I know your friend Holly. She asked me specifically not to stake you.” She turned a knob and the speaker crackled.

“Oh. Oh!” He brightened and stood up straighter. “Well, um… what do you need? I’m not all that combative.”

“You’re good enough. Here.” She handed him a heavy walky-talky and a pack of extra batteries. “Radio if you see anything weird and one of us will answer. Then pass it to the next person when you’re through. Someone will be here before sunrise. Did you bring a weapon?”

Daniel brandished a tire iron he pulled from his car trunk and a butcher knife from his kitchen.

Rhiannon’s mouth puckered with some kind of humor the vampire didn’t get. “Okay.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry. Probably nothing will happen. I staked a vampire who came sniffing, but that’s it. The portal’s been quiet.”

“Comforting.” Daniel craned his neck and looked at the gap in the wall, the painted line around the border.

“Yeah. Well.” Rhiannon patted her pockets to make sure she had keys. “I think that’s it. So… thanks for showing up.” It felt too weird to thank a vampire, so she cut around him and headed toward the parking lot. “Later, Daniel.”

“Later.” He watched her go, then he settled into the spot Rhiannon had vacated and wished he’d thought to bring a book.

After getting the number out of the phone box, and the market, Cian went to Ragnarok first, leaving messages there for the woman he remembered as Sabra, and Daniel, not at all sure either of them came there, but figuring if they went anywhere it would likely be there. He had no way of knowing how to contact them any other way.

Rhiannon had also mentioned a witch could help, so he made his way to the store he'd come to know was reliable, and where he'd been a few times for things, including Echo's pendant, and ingredients for the things Annie had taught him to make for himself. There was a young woman, Melody, serving and he asked her to pass on a message to Jazz, to contact him if she had some time, and was willing to help deal with a nasty situation that had come up suddenly.

"What sort of situation?" Melody asked, eyeing the man for a moment as she scribbled down his message and a contact number.

Cian looked at her, and wasn't about to expand until the young woman cocked her head to one side and told him, "I'm Jazz's... apprentice, you could say."

Cian eyed her for a moment, then following his instincts he told her briefly what he and Rhiannon had found, and where. "Rhiannon's standing guard at the moment, and trying to get in touch wi' some others, but at the moment we've no idea what i' might take t' seal it again, or if there'll be others."

Mel's eyes had widened a little as the man described the portal, and she nodded as she picked up the note she'd written. "I'll call Jazz and let her know," she told him. "She might be able to at least go and look, and help your friend, in case she needs it."

Cian was slightly relieved, not having liked the idea of leaving Rhiannon alone, but needing to get the word out to some reinforcements.

After he left the store he headed for Seventh Circle. He'd remembered a couple of others who might be able to at least stand guard, and the fight manager would know of some others who could be trusted.

After he left the club he headed back to the alley, the news of the events in Searchlight having had him put in a call to Echo, leaving a message on her machine: "Echo, it's Cian. I'm up in town and heard about tonight down there. Just wanted to check you are alright. I'll call again later."

He wanted to check with Rhiannon before heading back to Searchlight, let her know what he'd heard, and more importantly, see that she was alright. An ambulance, lights flashing and sirens wailing went through an intersection up ahead, and he had to wonder for a moment whether it was another victim of whatever had come through the portal, or just a usual run-of-the-mill medical emergency.

Echo had been standing on the sidewalk for five minutes, looking at the shop's facade. It was six o'clock in the evening. The sun was a blazing deep-orange ball in the sky that cast long shadows. The hybrid grasped the door handle, pulled.

It was cooler inside, and she paused as she looked around at the shelves. She didn't know if she'd find what she was looking for here, but if she didn't at least look, she'd never find out.

There was two hundred dollars folded tightly in her back jeans pocket. Help, real help, probably wouldn't be cheap. If she had to live off of mac and cheese for a while, it would be worth it.

Echo stepped towards the counter, jammed her hands self-consciously into her pockets. Wondered how she was going to start explaining.

“Solomon’s Scrolls.” Daniel scratched the stubble on his jaw. “Huh.” It was his first time going to the magic shop – any magic shop – so he didn’t know what to expect, but a Biblical reference for a name wasn’t high on the list. At the door he hesitated before he touched the knob. What if there was a spell on it? Would it burn like a cross? He had touched one of those once, just for shits and grins. Man, it hurt.

He licked his finger and slapped the door knob twice, until he was satisfied it wouldn’t fry him. Then he entered and sniffed the air, which smelled of herbs and candle wax. He spotted Melody up front and cruised right up to her. “Wasn’t Solomon the guy who taught his son to use astrology for sexual gratification?”

He hopped on a table. Two candles toppled and rolled across the velvety tablecloth.

Melody had called Maddy the next morning, after meeting Theresa in the coffee shop, and asked her if she was working that day. She really wanted to try the potion, and it had a half life of thirty six hours before it started losing its potency. She'd been checking the colour and giving the bottle the shake it needed every so often to prevent the ingredients from separating.

When Maddy said she was working the late shift Melody was glad, and asked her to meet her for an early lunch, as Melody was working that afternoon and evening at a function in the Skylark. She hurried along the sidewalk, turning into the plaza and glancing up at the clock displayed in the centre of the outdoor dining area. She was a little late and she scanned the area, looking for Maddy. A series of small cafes and restaurants clustered around the area, making the most of the lunchtime trade from the businesses located all around.

Theresa had taken to hanging out at Cool Beans even when Maddy wasn't behind the counter. They served good espresso, and their pastries didn't get stale from sitting in the glassed-in case for ages. A small portion of her paycheck was going into the register at Page Turners, providing her with paperbacks. She had a major crush on Jackie Collins' Lucky Santangelo.

The vampire was currently taking up space on one of the couches near the back of the establishment. There was a book in her lap and two empty cups on the table to her left. The plate that accompanied the cups was sprinkled with crumbs from a blueberry scone. Even though she couldn't really taste food anymore, she liked the play-acting that eating involved.

The bell above the shop's door jingled, and Theresa glanced up from Lucky's adventures in the mob to see if she knew who had just stepped inside.

Of course Daniel figured that was his fault, too. Get too loose with your relationship rules and suddenly there weren’t any at all. If their involvement could be construed as a relationship… He was fuzzy on that. Nevertheless, Daniel had given it up for Holly, and now there was no Holly, but he was still trying to hold out because there might (?) be a Holly at some point in the future and at this point, he was proud of his restraint. Not killing people might be the only prowess Daniel could muster.

But things got touchy when the butcher ran out of blood.

So here Daniel was in a pet shop, holding a brown bunny by its midsection, pretending to be in earnest search of a furry companion. The bunny’s eyes darted back and forth. Its nose twitched. Daniel inspected its undercarriage because he didn’t know its gender. Why that mattered when the idea was to eat it, he didn’t know.

“Have you ever cared for a bunny before?” asked a saleswoman in enormous glasses.

“No,” he said. “I had a dog once.”

“They’re nothing… like dogs,” she condescended.

“Really? Because my dog humped everything in sight, too.” Daniel smiled at her, trying to charm her. It did not work, so he said, “I’ll check out a library book,” just to get her off his scent. He carried the bunny to the shop window and looked outside. Daylight savings time meant that he had to shack up longer, so it was 9:30 already. The shop closed at 10:00. If he was going to drain this critter tonight, he needed to make up his mind.

A pretentious woman in a fur stole walked past the shop. Daniel covered the bunny’s eyes. "Look awaaaaay," he cried.

It turned out that Virgil didn't have any more cards from the shelter when he opened his desk drawer, so he wrote the phone number down and gave it to Tanya after their conversation. He hoped she left before the hitting happened again rather than after. 'After' might be a relative word, but it could also prove to be too late.

He pulled his late-model Chevy into the shelter's lot and killed the engine. It was just past noon, which meant they'd be serving lunch. He'd been on good terms with the staff since he started referring people for everything from drug counseling to psychiatric help. Becoming community-minded had been a way to take his mind off of what happened to him before he turned in his gun and badge, and he actually liked helping people.

The air had a definite chill in it, even though the snow had melted, and the warmth indoors was a welcome change. Virgil looked around for Stephanie, the day supervisor, then started towards the kitchen. If she wasn't in there, the people preparing lunch would know where she was.

The parcels were finally all weighed and stamped, and the postal worker took them off the counter and dumped them in a crate. Melody went to stop him, tell him that there were some things that needed careful handling, but reminded herself she had packaged those very carefully and made sure they were protected for their journey.

So instead she gathered up the change he had dumped on the counter, slipped it into the plastic bag and sealed it before sliding it into the pocket of her jeans, along with the receipt. She pulled her coat closed, buttoning it up and tying the belt around her waist before stepping out into the cold blustery wind. It wasn't often she had to wear a coat, but today was one of those days, the wind coming straight down the street and cutting straight through, instead of going around.

The Dive, which was prone to a gritty atmosphere, had been transformed for New Year's festivities. A rotating disco ball hung above the crowd, as well as a web of streamers. Colorful lights lit the stage for its five-band line-up, which began with a local cover band and then transitioned to new wave, punk, synthpop, and glam rock acts, all staples of the year in music.

By 11:15 p.m., the crowd was slap-happy and drunk, thanks to happy hour prices on drinks and $1 Jell-o shots. The patio smelled like barbecuing meat and nacho cheese. Merchandise for the Dive and the bands moved quickly.

The world was halfway through the decade and antsy for the second half to begin.

The Fraying Nerves were wrapping up a five-song set and about to clear the stage for the Death Spirals, a band whose hairstyles were a fire hazard.

The grand ballroom of the Skylark Hotel was awash in shades of forest green and gold. The charity ball had been arranged to benefit a local children's hospital, and so a large percentage of the proceeds from the door tickets and bar would be donated to renovate the facility. A two-story Christmas tree towered over the buffet tables of festive finger foods and chocolate fountain, and people had placed unwrapped toys under the limbs to be delivered to the hospital the next day. Champagne flowed freely. There were two stages for the live jazz musicians that would play all night. Santa's scantily clad elves wandered about the room with trays of shrimp and caviar. A dance floor took up the center of the space underneath a gleaming chandelier and there were beautifully decorated round tables on the edges of the room.

The ticket price was manageable, and a few tickets had gone out free for radio promotions and the like.

Luckily for the undead, the decor did not include wall-to-wall mirrors, though there were a few on the high ceiling.

In various corners, Vegas performance artists entertained to ooohs and aaahs. For instance, there was a man eating a gleaming sword in the corner.